


Other Proper Gamers

by afinch



Category: Leverage
Genre: Fluff, Gen, GenEx2017, Nestled somewhere in the canon timeline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 11:58:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12035433
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afinch/pseuds/afinch
Summary: Too many game nights have ended with a literal flipping of the table before the game even starts. Then there had been the disaster with Catan - also on the ban list, for those of you paying attention - and Pandemic kept ending with some of the team - Hardison's not naming names, but it was Eliot - deciding to let the world die. Oregon Trail seemed like it might be a safer bet."Why do the cards say 'press spacebar to continue'? And why do we need so many clothes? Can I have all the clothes? I can open my own store and sell them to suckers heading West, but I don't see the money. Where's the money? What kind of Monopoly game is this?"





	Other Proper Gamers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silveradept](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveradept/gifts).



"Okay, so the game we're going to play is called Oregon Trail," Hardison says. He's holding the box like it's a precious gemstone. Parker narrows her eyes, but wisely doesn't say anything. "It's a cooperative game, so we only win if someone makes it all the way to Willamette Valley."

"Is this like the Island one with the treasures?" Eliot asks. He's asking about Forbidden Island, which Hardison has decided they're not allowed to play ever again, because someone - he's not naming names, but she has blonde hair and loves stealing things - couldn't get the cooperative point and needed to claim all the treasures for herself, which never happened before the Island sank. Then someone - and again, Hardison isn't naming names, but she really loves stealing things - would produce a helicopter card and leave them all in the dust while she flew off with her treasure. 

Hardison glares at Parker, who is sitting at the head of the table, looking very innocent. "What?" she says. "I like the gemstone."

Hardison lets it go. Not important to correct Parker. "No," he says patiently to Eliot. "Not that one. This is based on Oregon Trail."

"Like, the historical place? Donner Party?" Parker asks, looking interested. "Do we get to eat people?" She looks a little _too_ interested in this idea.

Eliot leans back in his chair and snorts. "No, you idiot, like the computer game."

"Hey hey now, it's okay. It's based on both," Hardison says quickly. Too many game nights have ended with a literal flipping of the table before the game even starts. Then there had been the disaster with Catan - also on the ban list, for those of you paying attention - and Pandemic kept ending with some of the team - Hardison's not naming names, but it was Eliot - deciding to let the world die. Oregon Trail seemed like it might be a safer bet. 

Hardison opens the box and pulls out the dry erase board and marker. "Okay, first things first, what's your name for the journey? I'm going to be John Jacob Astor. So you have to call me that the whole game."

Eliot ignores this and reaches for the folded rule pages. "I'm going to call you lots of things. That ain't one of them." 

"I want to be Princess Parker!" Parker chirps. "No, Queen Parker. Yes, you will call me Queen Parker."

Hardison dutifully wrote that down in spot two, "Queen Parker it is. Eliot? You gotta pick a name for the third spot."

"Why do I have to be in the third spot. I want to head the party. Didn't they have a leader? "

"They had John Jac-" Hardison starts, but it's too late. 

Eliot jumps on it. "I'll be him, then."

Rather than argue, Hardison lets it go. "Fine," he says, writing a third name in the third spot. "I'll be John McLoughlin. He was known as the Father of Oregon."

"Not as good as a Queen," Parker says. She plays with the dice. "Why is this all funny? And why do the cards say 'press spacebar to continue'? And why do we need so many clothes? Can I have all the clothes?"

Hardison reminds himself once again to be patient. "No, these are the supply cards, from the supply store. You can't have them all, beca-" He shakes his head as she defiantly takes all the clothing supply cards and places them in front of her. 

"I can open my own store and sell them to suckers heading West," she says. "But I don't see the money. Where's the money? What kind of Monopoly game is this?"

Now Eliot has lost his patience, "Will you just let him finish explaining the rules?"

Parker pouts, but she lets Hardison finish explaining and dealing out the cards. She even reluctantly places the clothing cards back into the supply pile before they're redistributed. 

"Finally," Hardison says, once they are all situated. "John Jacob Astor, you wanted to go first. Play one of your trail cards."

"That's gonna get old real fast," Eliot says at the same time he lays down a card. "Roll an even to ford, odd and lose a supply card. Okay, sounds easy enough." He picks up the die and blows on it a few times before flinging it on the table. A 6. 

Hardison lets out a slow breath. So far so good. "Queen Parker, your turn. Remember, you have to match hi-"

Parker waves him off, "I got it, I got it. Look, a trail, press spacebar to continue, pull a Calamity card, this is such an easy game, Hardison."

"That's John McLoughlin," Hardison quietly corrects.

"Nobody but you cares," Eliot mutters. "Literally nobody, including all the people playing this game at their homes, cares. Let it go, dude."

Hardison looked wounded. "People _care_ , John Jacob Astor. They take this game _seriously_ , as they should and when _they_ play, _they_ pick names and answer to them for the whole game."

Eliot rolls his eyes, "Whatever, you've named us both John, which is stupid. Parker, what's your card?"

"Queen Parker," Parker says, sticking her tongue out at him. "And I have Extreme Cold, but _someone_ " - she's not naming names, but the death glares at Eliot are more than enough - "made me put my clothes back. It says I die on the next round if I don't get clothes, so give me your clothes."

Eliot makes a tuting sound, and flicks a supply card at Parker, who grabs it eagerly. "Yes, clothes, I don't die!" she says happily. Hardison moves to put the supply card back in the extra supplies, but she takes it and puts it in her hand before he can.

Deciding it's not a battle worth fighting, nor is it worth mentioning that they skipped his turn, Hardison lays down his trail card. "Parker, it's your turn again."

Eliot looks up, "No, it's mine."

"No, your turn was giving Queen Parker the supply card, so you don't get to lay down a trail this time," Hardison explains. He doesn't explain that they went out of order. As long as he's keeping track, it would be okay. They never played in order, because some of them - and Hardison wasn't naming names, but the only exempt person was himself - couldn't wait their turns. 

"Yea, but yours doesn't even have anything on it. Mine had a river," Eliot protests. "Whatever. Parker? I think it's your turn again."

Parker points to the blank trail card, "So you get to go for free and not have to do anything? That's not fair. You should have to pay a toll to me and Eliot for doing the work."

"Look, this is a really good card," Hardison says. "I call it 'one quiet night' because it means that you don't have to lose supplies or get a calamity or anything. You get to advance towards Willamette, which is our goal. Collectively. Remember?" He was the only one at the table who would appreciate what that meant. Other proper gamers might get the reference, but it would fly right over the heads of John Jacob Astor and Queen Parker. 

"Freeloader," Parker mutters under her breath. "See, my trail card _does_ something. Another calamity."

"We don't want calamities," both Hardison and Eliot say at the same time. 

Parker shushes them, "Yes, they're fun. See, mine is-" she stops after drawing her card, her nose wrinkling in disgust. "It says I've died of a snakebite, which is stupid. Queens don't die. Hardison, you should die of a snakebite, you're the freeloader."

 

"I second that," Eliot says quickly. 

Hardison shakes his head. "No, Queen Parker is dead, but look, on the back of our party list, there's gravestones, so you can write your epitaph. This was my favorite part of losing the game. Our computers were all linked, so we'd come across every one's gravestones and we'd try to be …" He trails off as Parker grabs the small whiteboard and makes some modifications to both sides.

"There!" she says, triumphantly. "Hardison is dead of a snakebite and Eliot and Queen Parker are the only two left."

"What did your write on the back?" Eliot asks, squinting to try to read what she's written in the tiny space for the headstone.

Hardison reads it for the group, "Here lies Hardison. He thought the snake was a power cord." Before he can react, Eliot is laughing so hard he's choking, Parker looks more pleased with herself than she should for a card game, and the whiteboard gleams with his doom.

Eliot recovers to ask him, "So what do you do now that you're dead?"

"I take over the supply store," Hardison says. 

Parker glares at him and puts her hands protectively over the extra supply piles. "Mine," she says, and Hardison throws his hands up in surrender. 

He watches his friends lie, cheat, and steal their way to victory at the Willamette Valley and decides this game is _definitely_ going in the 'keep' pile.


End file.
